"Why, we shouldn't all be thinking so well of each other!"
"He isn't speaking of personal loveliness--you've not THAT vulgar
beauty, my dear, at all," Mrs. Beale explained. "He's just talking of
plain dull charm of character."
"Her character's the most extraordinary thing in all the world," Sir
Claude stated to Mrs. Beale.
"Oh I know all about that sort of thing!"--she fairly bridled with the
knowledge.
It gave Maisie somehow a sudden sense of responsibility from which she
sought refuge. "Well, you've got it too, 'that sort of thing'--you've
got the fatal gift: you both really have!" she broke out.
"Beauty of character? My dear boy, we haven't a pennyworth!" Sir Claude
protested.
"Speak for yourself, sir!" she leaped lightly from Mrs. Beale. "I'm good
and I'm clever. What more do you want? For you, I'll spare your blushes
and not be personal--I'll simply say that you're as handsome as you can
stick together."
"You're both very lovely; you can't get out of it!"--Maisie felt the
need of carrying her point. "And it's beautiful to see you side by
side."
Sir Claude had taken his hat and stick; he stood looking at her a
moment. "You're a comfort in trouble! But I must go home and pack you."
"And when will you come back?--to-morrow, to-morrow?"
"You see what we're in for!" he said to Mrs. Beale.
"Well, I can bear it if you can."
Their companion gazed from one of them to the other, thinking that
though she had been happy indeed between Sir Claude and Mrs.
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